


A ritualistic form of affection

by thesoundofnat



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Cooking, Getting Together, M/M, Pre-Slash, Vulcan Culture, Vulcan Kisses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-12-29 19:27:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18300506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesoundofnat/pseuds/thesoundofnat
Summary: Jim starts checking out books about Vulcans in order to understand Spock better. The results are a mix of panic, food, and Jim thinking slightly too much about Spock’s hands.





	A ritualistic form of affection

It started because Jim was paranoid. Having never been one to shy away from risky situations, this whole trying to be discreet thing was excruciating.

Even though he was the captain, there were lots of parts of the ship he rarely visited, and after staying in his comfort zone for a few years he was randomly reminded of the old fashioned library tucked away in a corner of the Enterprise. It was mostly used as a place crew members spent their free time reading novels or the like, and the non-fiction books that were available were purely for personal projects. No way someone would consult a book in a crucial situation when they had computers that could do it so much quicker.

The room wasn’t entirely empty when Jim entered the first time after getting curious as he’d passed by, but the vast space made it impossible for the ten or so people in there to make it seem crowded, and so he wandered in leisurely.

“The romance section is over there,” Uhura said, grinning at him. Her presence in there didn’t surprise Jim at all.

He rolled his eyes. “I know that already.”

They laughed. He wandered on, taking in shelves upon shelves. Finding that they had all kinds of genres. Worrying that one day an avid reader would run out of stories. Making a mental note to restock it soon.

The shelf in particular didn’t catch his eye, but being so used to reacting whenever he saw this word written down a certain title made him do a double take.

‘The history of Vulcan’ it said. The book itself didn’t surprise him, but he somehow hadn’t expected to find it. A bulky leather-bound and frankly quite dusty book sitting on the non-fiction shelf, just beneath the sign labelled ‘history’. Just at Jim’s eye level.

He picked it up. Flipped it open. Knew that he could get a summarized and more up to date version of these 600 pages within seconds if he wanted to. But.

Well, taking the time to read a book with this tiny of a font just to learn about a planet was the biggest form of flattery, wasn’t it? He respected Spock enough to want to put the effort in, didn’t he?

And thus started the journey of him understanding his first officer. Rather than typing down words that would always be traceable. Yeah, he was definitely paranoid, and he wasn’t sure why.

Surely this was an innocent act?

“Whatcha reading?”

Jim almost threw the book across the room. “Shit!  _Bones_. Don’t  _do_ that.”

Bones raised an eyebrow at him. “Didn’t you hear me come in?”

“Obviously not.” Jim grabbed his bookmark to save his place, chucking the book to the side where Bones couldn’t see it. “Did you need anything?”

“Testy. Remind me to not interrupt you when you’re reading again. You seem to be doing a lot of that lately.”

“I discovered we have a library. Did you know about it?”

“Of course I did.”

“Am I the only one out of the loop here?”

Bones snorted and sat down beside him. “You’re lucky only I know about this side of you. Can’t imagine anyone wanting to make a person this daft captain.”

“If you’re just here to insult me-”

“I’m not. It was a joke. Ever heard of those?”

Jim deflated. “Sorry.”

“You seem tense, kid.”

“Long week.”

“Still find enough time to sneak away to read, I see. What’s the book about anyway?”

Bones made a move to reach over him and grab it, but Jim grabbed his wrist. “Nothing.”

He saw the challenge in his friend’s face before he’d even made a move, and soon they were both wrestling for that godforsaken book, not even worrying about possibly damaging it.

Somehow Bones managed to twist it out of his grip. “Are you really being this secretive over a book about  _Vulcans_?” he asked incredulously. “Geez, I thought you were reading a steamy romance or whatever.”

“First of all, there are a lot of good steamy romances in that library.”

“I don’t doubt that, but this-” He held up the book, amusement so very obvious on his face that Jim nearly blushed just from seeing it. “Why were you hiding this? In fact, why are you even reading this?”

Jim shrugged. “I was drawn to it. I wanted to learn more.” Truth was this was the third book about Vulcan or Vulcans he’d picked up, but he wouldn’t tell Bones that.

“You know you could just search for this info, right? Or ask Spock. Wait.”

“No.”

“Kid.”

“Don’t say it, Bones.”

Bones’ smile was enough to fluster him anyway. “Should we talk about this?”

“No.” Jim took the book from him. “Absolutely not.” So much for keeping this a secret.

“You’re not very subtle, you know,” Bones said a week later, having caught Jim checking out yet another Vulcan book. “You know every book you get is visible in the library system?”

“And how exactly do you know that?”

“I checked.”

“Shit.”

“To be fair,” Bones continued as Jim picked up the book he’d dropped in his shock. “The librarian seems so lonely she was willing to show me just about anything when I asked. We need to hire another one because at this point I’m not sure if this counts as some kind of abuse.”

“We have a librarian?”

“You need to find a book about the Enterprise, stat.”

Jim held up the book on Vulcan traditions. “So many books, so little time.”

“You’d save time if you just  _asked_ him about things. I’m sure he’d be willing to share.”

Jim couldn’t explain to him that he wanted to impress Spock with his knowledge rather than make a fool of himself for not knowing simple things about his culture.

“Sometimes you gotta make your own research,” was all he said.

He found The Book three weeks later. It was hidden in the very back, as if sinful, which to be fair it probably was. ‘Vulcan Hand Touching’ it said, and Jim knew by just flipping through it that touching hands meant so much more to Vulcans than it did to humans.

Just how many times had Jim touched Spock’s hand, occasionally accidentally? Why hadn’t Spock said anything? Hell, he’d probably violated and offended him so many times he’d most likely lost count.

Unless.

No. That couldn’t be it.

Spock couldn’t have wanted him to do it. Couldn’t have enjoyed it. Especially not since Jim so obviously had no idea what he was doing.

He checked the book out, praying to god no one but Bones checked his history.

* * *

 

_A ritualistic form of affection._

Jim read that sentence over and over.

Yeah, sure, it only involved the index and middle finger, but even just brushing knuckles was probably the equivalent of lips touching the corner of someone else’s mouth. Way too intimate for an everyday occurrence.

Jim rubbed at his temple, unsure of how to handle this. A memory of him grabbing Spock’s hand in order to pull him out of danger’s reach, also known as Scotty rushing toward them so quickly he wouldn’t have been able to stop without crashing into their dear Vulcan, kept occupying his mind. Such a casual thing for him, even if every touch he shared with Spock sent him into overdrive. For Spock it had probably been the most intimate thing, and he’d had to pretend as if Jim hadn’t just forced them to practically make out.

He squinted at the text.  _When Vulcans mated with a member of another species_  - apparently that was a thing and not just Jim’s fucked up fantasies -  _the non-Vulcan would start practicing the finger-touching_. That made sense. He couldn’t picture most Vulcans would want to kiss their partner like humans did, or whatever other forms of affection other species used. He wondered if Spock and Uhura had been practicing this when they’d been together, and then he felt like a creep for wondering.

But.

Well, he’d seen them kiss. He knew Spock wasn’t against that particular human practice, but he was half human after all. He wondered what it would be like for him to have someone capture his mouth while tracing their fingers over his palm. Would that mere act send him over the edge?

Jim shut the book with more force than was needed, fingers itching for  _something_. All he knew was that no one could know about him having checked out this book. All he knew was that he would never ever touch Spock’s hands again if he could help it, as much as it pained him.

* * *

 

Apparently he’d gone from “don’t touch Spock’s hands” to “try not to touch Spock at all and act like a fucking weirdo around him” in the span of three days.

Nova help him.

“Captain.”

Jim was dragged out of his panicked bubble. “Yes, Spock?”

Spock took a second too long to speak again, as if he was doing the Vulcan equivalent of hesitating. “Forgive me for inquiring, but are you all right?”

“Just peachy,” Jim said, clearing his throat. “It’s been a long week, s’all.”

“I do recall you once offering myself your support after a particularly trying time. I would like to make it clear to you that it goes both ways.”

Jim smiled. He couldn’t help it. “Thanks, Spock.” He went to grab his arm, caught himself, and withdrew his hand as if he’d been burned. Smooth, Kirk.

Spock raised an eyebrow. “Captain?”

“I gotta go.” Literally running away from his problems wasn’t how he’d wanted to start his day, but there he was, captain of the fucking Enterprise, running off so that his first officer wouldn’t ask more questions about his abnormal behavior. He’d had better days.

He’d had way worse days too, but that was beside the point.

Things didn’t get much better after that. Everytime he looked at Spock, which he was forced to do a lot of seeing as they worked together, all he could think about was how he felt when people touched him. Vulcans weren’t necessarily the most affectionate species, and Spock had do deal with enough bullshit from the ignorant crew as it was. Jim hated that he’d been a part of that. Hated how no one made an effort to try to understand him.

At the end of that week, after having acted like a straight up fool each time they interacted, Jim decided to try his hand at cooking. Most specifically he wanted to make Spock some plomeek soup, which was considered a traditional morning meal on Vulcan. Despite the chefs’ efforts to serve a variety of foods from different cultures and planets, Jim had noticed the lack of Vulcan food. He now understood Spock’s fondness for occasionally preparing his own meals in his quarters.

He knocked on Spock’s door early, but he knew his friend had been up for hours. “I hope you haven’t eaten yet,” he said when the door swung open, holding up the container.

Spock placed two bowls on the table and went to grab spices when Jim confessed he’d kept it bland since he hadn’t known how Spock took it. He poured the soup into both bowls, pleased when Spock commented on the pleasant scent and that it looked similar to the meal he’d had back home.

“It’s my first attempt at making it,” Jim said. “Please be honest about the taste, because I don’t want to get a big head over a lie.”

Spock’s lips twitched. “I give you my word.”

Spock added a bit of spices to his soup, but Jim wanted to taste it without them and ended up actually enjoying it as it was. They ate in silence for a moment, Jim watching Spock take spoonful after spoonful, until he finally stopped relishing in Jim’s wide eyes and said he liked it.

“One point to me,” Jim said with a grin, tucking in happily.

“I was not aware this was a competition,” Spock said.

“Oh, it’s not. Unless you want it to be.”

“I could certainly indulge you in your desire to compete, but I must announce that you will not be the winner in this scenario.”

“Oh? Spock, are you challenging me?”

“If that is what you wish.”

So they started a thing where Jim would cook Vulcan meals and Spock would cook Earth meals. Maybe it was just an excuse to share their meals privately together a few times a week, but Jim found himself looking forward to them more and more.

Bones found him as he was checking out a book on Vulcan food. “Are you still keeping this up?”

Jim held up his hands defensively. “It’s for a good cause this time.”

“Such as?”

“Me winning the cooking competition I have with Spock.”

“I feel like I’ve missed a lot this past month.”

They walked toward their quarters together, Jim all the while telling Bones of the foods he’d cooked and what Spock had opted for in return. He realized this could very well lead to Bones feeling left out, but all he said was, “I can’t believe you needed to crush on someone to start cooking properly,” and Jim hit him with the book.

Jim hadn’t really thought much of his feelings toward his first officer. Knew it was better to not pay them too much attention lest he wanted to start overthinking. This was the closest he and Spock had ever been, and he didn’t want to mess it up.

“I propose we prepare a meal together,” Spock said one day, the two of them full of tamales.

“As a peace offering?”

“It is apparent we should have had someone else judge this competition.”

“Let’s end it in style and camaraderie, then.”

Jim hadn’t realized how intimate it was to cook with someone until he and Spock squeezed into Spock’s kitchen that Wednesday afternoon, having given strict instructions to only be bothered if it was an emergency. Jim wondered if the crew were onto them, and if so, what did they think this whole thing even was? Nova knew Jim had no clue himself.

“Can you hand me some basil?” Jim asked, the cookbook on Vulcan food open between them.

Spock plucked a few leaves from the plant, looked at them, found them sufficient, and moved his hand toward Jim just as Jim extended his own to grab it. What resulted was their hands knocking together, and Jim, flustered by the mere thought of Spock’s hands on his skin, withdrew his own so quickly that Spock dropped the basil onto the counter rather than onto his palm.

“Sorry,” he said, reaching for them, panic seizing him almost effortlessly. He could see Spock watching him as he tried to resume his task, but he knew whatever the hell his hands were doing wasn’t effective. He really was acting like a pre-teen.

“Jim?” It was the fact that Spock had said his name that made Jim’s head snap up. “Is something the matter?”

“I’m fine,” he said automatically. “I just… well, I don’t want to cross any lines.”

Spock didn’t say anything. Only grabbed his knife and went back to chopping vegetables. Jim didn’t know how to interpret his silence, but he dived back into the recipe, willing the act of merely existing together to calm him.

Things almost felt normal when they sat down to eat, the various scents making him hungrier by the minute.

“This looks so good,” he said, delighted. Spock poured him some water and didn’t say anything, but he seemed rather pleased as well.

They ate in silence, both of them savoring each bite. Jim almost passed out from how hard he tried to think of something to say, but all he managed to do was continuously praise the food, which got old pretty quickly.

“Can I ask you something?” The question itself was scary enough, but the way Spock had said it - his choice of words so simple - made his heart leap to his throat.

“Sure,” he said, his attempt at nonchalance butchered by the breathlessness in his voice.

“Why do you possess this book?”

“The cookbook?”

“Precisely.”

“I got it from the library. Did you know we have a library?”

“Did you acquire it simply for tonight?”

“Well, no, I’ve used it throughout the entire competition. That’s not cheating, is it?”

“No.” Spock wiped his mouth with a napkin. “However, I cannot help but contemplate the reasoning behind using a physical book rather than looking up recipes on your padd.”

“Man, not you too. When did the love for physical books die?”

Spock seemed amused. “Forgive me. I did not mean any offense.”

“I’m not offended, but- well, there’s something nice about people making an effort, isn’t it?”

“It is.”

“I just wanted to respect your culture.”

“Is that why you made me plomeek soup?”

Jim looked at his plate. “Yeah. I just wanted to show you that someone was willing to at least try. It’s not fair that you’re the only one that has to adapt.”

Spock’s hand found Jim’s, briefly; their knuckles touching for only a second before he withdrew it. “Thank you.”

Jim felt like a deer caught in headlights. “Spock.”

“Jim?”

“I know what hand-touching means for Vulcans. Or well finger-touching. You don’t have to do it just because humans do it casually.”

Spock seemed oddly… flustered? Was that the right word for the sudden green tint over his cheeks?

A blush. Dear god, Spock was  _blushing_.

“What-”

“I was not aware you had done your research on my culture.” His words were as rushed as a Vulcan could make them.

“Like I said. I wanted to show you respect.”

“How long have you been indulging in this project?”

“A few months?”

“Is this the reason for your, if you do not mind my saying, curious behavior?”

“Uh, I guess. I just- I was scared I was crossing lines.”

“You were not.”

The words, rather than reassuring him, made his breath catch. There was more to those words.

“Spock?”

“Jim?”

“Do you- do you mind it? When I touch your hands?”

Spock didn’t avert his gaze when he said, “Not at all.”

“Not even when we both know what it means?”

“I can only hope you share my sentiment now that you are aware of it.”

Jim inched his hand closed to his on the table. “May I?”

Spock was silent for a few seconds before saying, “You may.”

* * *

 

If Jim were to write his own book on Vulcans, he’d describe the way it felt to be close to one. He’d describe Spock’s almost nonexistent smile around others, and how the corners of his mouth twitched when they were alone. He’d describe the utter trust he felt as Spock allowed him to hold his hand, scoot closer to him and let their lips brush. He’d describe how a Vulcan’s love preceded than any emotion or gesture, for its mere existence was greater than life itself.

He’d never write that book, though. Some things you had to keep to yourself, and Jim was never letting Spock go.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](http://thesoundofnat.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
